Cherokee Fiddle

When the train pulled into the station

He rolled up his sleeves, and resin's up his bow

Fiddle upside down, orange blossom special

'Cause if you want to make a living, you got to put on a good show

When he'd smell the smoke and the cinders

Slick back his hair, opened up his case

Play Cherokee Fiddle, he'd play it for the whiskey

'Cause good whiskey never let him lose his place

He was always there, playing for the miners

Devil's dream was a song they understood

Then, he'd go back to Oklahoma, and he'd wait 'til the trains

Was running and the weather was good

But when he'd smell the smoke and the cinders

He slick back his hair, opened up his case

Play Cherokee Fiddle, he'd play it for the whiskey

'Cause good whiskey never let him lose his place

Now, the Indians are dressing up like cowboys

And the cowboys are putting leathers and turquoise on

And the music is sold by lawyers

And the fools who fiddled in the middle of the station have gone

Some folks say they'll never miss him

Old Fiddle squealed like the engine's brakes

Cherokee Fiddle, he's gone forever

Just like the music of the whistle that the old locomotives made

So, when you smell (when you smell) the smoke and the cinders

(Smoke and the cinders)

Just slick back your hair, open up your case (open up your case)

Play Cherokee Fiddle, play it for the whiskey

'Cause good whiskey will never let you lose your place

No, good whiskey will never let you lose your place

No, good whiskey will never let you lose your place